Look at This Blue Wing
by IndefiniteHeaven
Summary: Dean raised his head and fierce forest green eyes met tired ocean blue ones. He shook his head, clearing the anger, and replaced it with sadness for the exhausted man before him. "Tell that to my abused face." Dean finally joked, attempting to lighten Castiel's mood. Castiel cracked a rare, genuine smile and nodded. "Most women here aren't too fond of you." He joked back.


"_It's dark in here; can't see the sky.  
But I look at this blue wing and I close my eyes.  
And I fly away beyond these walls, up above the clouds where the rain don't fall.  
On a poor man's dreams_."  
-"_Blue Wing_" Tom Russell

Dean discovered it shortly after the future version of himself had showed him '_The Colt'_ Future Dean had just left to find Risa and future Castiel came in merely moments after.

"Sooooo, we finally found it, huh? After all this time..." Castiel aloofly said. Past Dean gazed up at Castiel from his seat at the chipped wooden table.

"Well then!" Castiel exclaimed as he clapped his hands with a crisp '_smack_!'. "Dean is probably plotting as we speak, so might as well begin to gear up."

The ex-angel lazily gazed about the small cabin and quickly located what he was searching for. He snatched up a livid colored long sleeve, similar to the one that he was wearing, and a hunter-green jacket, carelessly thrown in a corner.

Dean continued to be lost in thought once more and ignored the man removing his shirt before him.

Unconsciously, Castiel faced away from Dean, leaving his back bare. Dean was drawn from his thoughts as he noticed what was on his friend's exposed back.

A tattoo.

Midnight dark blue ink was etched across his large shoulders and all the way down to his lower back. The ink on back of his upper biceps seemed a bit hurried, but was equally as elegant as the rest of the tattoo. There were dozens of ruffled feathers carefully sketched. It beyond realistic and had dazzling beauty to it.

Dean gaped with awe and shock from the beauty of it and the fact that the ex-angel even had a tattoo.

Castiel slightly turned, unconsciously again, and noticed the eyes laid on himself from the corner of his vision. Castiel smirked happily when he realized what Dean was staring at and looked over his shoulder at the stunned man.

"You like? It toke like 5 hours to do. And man did it hurt like hell." Castiel told him, grimacing at the memory.

Dean tilted his head, much like Castiel did, and stuttered out a '_why_?'. Castiel sighed, turning around fully, and placed his hands on his hips. Tattooed over his heart was the anti-possession symbol.

Dean nearly began to gape, again, at another unearthed tattoo. "Why do you think?" Castiel asked curiously. Dean reclaimed his puzzled expression and again tilted his head.

Castiel rolled his large eyes and sighed once more. "It was towards the end of 2013...

*  
A light blanket of white covered the grounds and the dense forest of Camp Chitaqua. There was an odd silence on the grounds, that was only interrupted by the occasional wail of the winter wind. Few hunters dared to venture out that day.

Castiel laid, shirtless, on the frozen, messy floor. His long legs were crossed and his feet propped up by a multi-colored lawn chair.

His mind was fogged. This time though, it was not fogged due to drinking or drugs. Castiel's mind was fogged from a deep thought.

If not for that deep thought he was in, Castiel would of been completely stoned or high at that point in day.

He was thinking about who he used to be. Castiel wanted to be pure, again, like the angel he once was. But, doing drugs, drinking excessively, constantly making love, and killing didn't make him an angel. He couldn't stop though. He was addicted and always want more.

He loved the feelings it brought him when he caved to his addictions. Power, happiness, strength, euphoria, freedom, courageousness. All sorts of positive.

Castiel also hated it though. He always felt depression and self-loathing. It made his stomach bubble with disgust.

The ex-angel still wished to feel the connection with angels. Knowing that stopping his addictions were an impossible solution, he had began pondering for one and a had been for a few hours now had passed.

Castiel leisurely stroked his ice cold chest with his index finger and hummed Led Zeppelin's "_Stairway to Heaven_". His rough hand felt a spot of slightly raised skin near his heart. He frowned in confusion and looked down at his chest.

The anti-possession tattoo symbol stood out against his too pale skin. Dean had made him get it awhile back, along with most living at Camp Chitaqua.

Tattoo. A tattoo. Castiel thought about it. It was a great solution. A tattoo.

But, of what?

What represented angels the most? Castiel pondered this and tapped the ground in a pattern. Purity, love, devotion, strength, faith. Yep, all sorts of positive.

No, he needed something more specific then an idea.

A halo maybe? No, he didn't want anything tattooed around his forehead or anything. Then how about wings?

Castiel dropped his legs quickly and sat up. He felt dizzy and saw black spots dance before his eyes for a moment, but ignored it.

Wings! It was perfect! Where though? Of course it would be on his back. Huge and spread out across his whole back.

The ex-angel was feeling excitement for the first time in a what felt like long time, that didn't actually stem from being intoxicated. It was a perfect ide-how would he get a tattoo right now?

There were no longer shops or supplies, due to the Apocalypse destroy nearly everything. And most humans had been marked nearly a year ago with what was left.

Then who marked the people in camp again? Castiel had to remember. Remember. Re? Remember? Reeee-Re-memmmmber? Reee-Re-sssssa. He chuckled and then gasped in realization. RISA!

Risa was the one whom did it! She would know how to mark his vessel's body. But, she hated him. Risa thought he was a worthless, annoying hippie.

Castiel sagged and wearily rubbed a hand across the stubble of his face. He briefly thought about how he should borrow a knife from Dean so he could shave his face.

Castiel really wanted-no needed the tattoo. He had to ask her for help. He didn't care what the woman thought of him.

As he stood, he picked up a shirt and coat, that most likely belonged to Dean. Castiel cringed at the thought of Dean yelling in his face that he was wasting one of his lieutenant's time with making the tattoo wings. Most of their conversations lately ended with Dean screaming at Castiel and telling him how useless he was.

The ex-angel sighed for what felt like the billionth time in his life. The coat and shirt were thrown on and he hurriedly stumbled out of the cabin into the winter wasteland.

The wind had picked up more and shivers repeatedly rolled across his body. He wrapped his coat tighter and crossed his arms in an effort to warm himself.

He caught his thick boots under some hidden item buried in the snow and nearly did a face-plant. Castiel's gloveless hands hitting the snow first saved his face.

After a round of curses spewed from the frustrated ex-angel's lips, and several falls, he arrived at the cabin he was searching for.

Castiel eagerly ran up the steps and to the door on the large porch. His hands shook badly from the frigid air and excitement, but he didn't care. He pounded the door.

After a few more pounds, the door opened inwards to reveal a irrated looking Risa. There was an awkward silence.

"Ah, hi." Castiel sighed, out of breath from trudging through the snow. Risa gave the ex-angel a look of disgust and slammed the door harshly in his face.

"Well, that could of g-gone better," He muttered to himself. "L-Listen! I k-know what you think of me and all, b-but I really wanted to speak with y-you!"

"Get the hell off my porch before I blast your damn brains in!" She shouted back. Castiel winced at the seriousness in Risa's tone, but decided to continue anyways.

"I h-heard you were the one who t-tattooed the s-symbols on people!" Receiving no answer he still went on. "I want a t-tattoo!"

There was a long silence and just when Castiel thought of leaving, the old door creaked open a crack. "...Dean and Chuck claim you were once an angel, but you sure as hell don't act like one." Risa suspiciously told him.

Castiel flinched at the comment and then nodded. "Y-yeah, I know. I...w-well could you l-like let me in to e-explain? I-Its pretty cold out h-here."

Risa suspicious glare continued and Castiel sighed, again. "I p-promise I won't make any m-moves on y-you like I d-do with the other l-lovely women."

"You better or I won't hesitant to kill you, even if you are Dean's buddy." Risa spat with venom. Castiel's face turned a shade of sad and Risa gave him an cautious look.

Risa then noticed that his teeth were chattering violently and shook her head. "Hurry up! Get in! I'm freezing!" She yelled, opening the door completely.

Castiel causally walked in and saw the noticed fire roaring, but made no move towards it. Risa heavily glared at him and then slammed the door with a 'bang!'. She walked back over to her cushioned seat by the chimney.

"You going to stand there all day or sit, moron?" She rudely asked. Castiel stared at her with intense eyes that made her squirm uncomfortably. Finally, he went to sit in the seat next to her.

He looked around and realized they were the only ones in the room. "W-Where are the others?" He asked curiously.

"Somewhere out in that freaking blizzard hunting those damn demons. Are we just going to chat all day or will you explain what's going on to me?"

"Oh yeah. I want a tattoo." Castiel stated, again.

"You obviously said that already. And you already have an anti-possession symbol on your body."

"No, really?" Castiel asked sarcastically, growing miffed with her tone of voice.

"Watch your tone or so help me God I-"

"My Father hasn't helped us with any of this situation, Lieutenant."

"I know he hasn't! Now let me speak! You don't need anything from me if you already have one on you."

"I don't want another symbol."

"What the hell do you need me for then, junkie?"

"I would really like it if you didn't do that whole name calling thing."

"I can call you whatever the hell I want to, douche bag."

"...I want a normal tattoo."

Risa raised an eyebrow. "What the hell do you want of a tattoo of?"

"Angel wings."

"Wings? Angel wings? Are you serious?"

"On my back and arms."

"Get out of here! That would take hours and a wimpy dope-head like you wouldn't be able to handle the pain!"

"Oh, I'm pretty sure I can handle this, Lieutenant."

"And what makes you so sure?"

"Because, I want to. And I definitely won't stop wanting it."

Risa's brown eyes studied Castiel. His clothes, obviously belonging to Dean, were too large on his smaller frame. His dirty, stumbled face gave him a homeless appearance. His dark hair looked oily and he had a earthy smell to him. She saw devotion and extreme determination though. She knew that look. He wouldn't take no for an answer and would keep bugging her forever for a yes. Risa finally signed.

"Go sit on that stool."

"You're going to do it?"

"Yes! Now hurry up before I change my mind!" She yelled as she stood up. Risa walked over to another door leading to a separate room and went inside.

Castiel sat upon the creaky stool and stared off into space. He thought, again, about Dean's reaction. After awhile, the dark skinned woman returned with the tattooing supplies.

"Take off your shirt." She commanded him as she rubbed sanitizer onto her hands. Castiel pulled off his coat and long sleeve and dropped them to the floor.

She pulled another, taller, stool up behind him and sat on it. "How do you want them?"

"As realistic as possible."

"Hate to break to you, but I don't know what real angel wings look like and, unless I want to be blind, I'll never know."

"They look a lot like how humans think they do, just a million times more intense and bright. Just...just make them look as realistic as you think they would be."

Risa nodded and thought for a long moment. She grabbed the bottle sanitizer and hesitated before squirting some on his smooth back and began to rub.

His shoulders felt unusually stiff and tense. "It makes it hard when you stiffen like that. I'm only rubbing sanitizer on, so relax."

Castiel toke a deep breathe and tried to relax his body. He twitched slightly when his scars were touched. He then thought about when Dean rubbed his shoulder and gently patted his back when Castiel was receiving his first tattoo.

Risa finished rubbing and leaned closer, and she noticed the air around him not only smelt of earth, but slightly like alcohol.

"What are those two scars on your back?" Risa cautiously asked.

"...My wings used to be there and those are what are left."

"How much have you drank.?"

"Only a can today. Why? You think I'm just saying the wing crap since I'm 'drunk'?"

"I still don't think you were an angel before. I'm shocked that you haven't drank more today like you usually do. Theres a reason you're called a drunk."

"I got distracted about thinking about the tattoo." He told her honestly.

"Anyways, I wasn't asking because of what you thought you once were. Getting drunk numbs the pain for being tattooed, especially with ancient, rusted machine."

"No."

"'No', what?"

"I don't need to numb it."

"Then, you do realize this is gonna hurt like Hell, right?"

"Been there and done that. And I didn't want to numb it when Dean toke me for the symbol and I don't need to now."

"Your completely nuts, aren't you?"

"I'm aware that I've lost my mind and I don't really give a damn...Dean was there to help the first time, so it didn't hurt as bad."

"Alright, so, why is Dean on a mission right now? He should be here then. I don't want you screaming on me or anything, because everyone is gonna think we're being attacked by demons."

Castiel's eyes turned sad. "I won't scream. And Dean doesn't even know I'm here. He wouldn't want to help me anyways."

"What do you mean? He doesn't know you're doing this? And of course he cares about you. Your like his right-hand-man. He must care enough to make you that."

"No, he doesn't know. He would be dragging me out and calling me all kinds of things by now. And I'm only his 'right-hand-man' because I've known him longer than most here. He doesn't need to care about me."

"...If he really doesn't care then why do you stick around? It doesn't make any sense."

"I spent years searching for him in Hell and gave up my angelic powers to help him. He saved me from that screwed-up system in the sky. I'm not an angel any more, but I would still die to keep Dean safe. I don't care about if he hates me or not. Now, Lieutenant, can we do this?"

Risa placed the aging ink into tattoo gun. She injected the needle and then placed the tip to the center of his upper back.

"You know, I should warn you, again, that this is going to hurt." She reminded him.

The hippie didn't reply and Risa began to sketch the first feather. After a couple of feathers, Castiel began to clench his jaw and fists. A small trail of blood trickled down his back and Risa swiftly wiped it with a piece of clothe.

Agonizingly, the hours passed by for Castiel. As Risa began drawing the needle across the scars, Castiel cried out. Risa jerked the needle away from his shaking form and peeked over his shoulder at his face.

His head was bowed and eyes were squeezed shut. He had turned as pale as the snow outside.

"Hey, want me to stop for a moment? I'll go around the scars if they're really that sensitive." Risa questioned, feeling a new worry for the weakened man.

Castiel opened a hazy pained eye and looked up at her. "No. Pass my shirt." He croaked out weakly.

Risa bobbed her ponytailed head up and down. Risa handed it to him and he shoved a corner of it into his mouth. She continued on and his muffled cries made her nervously bite her lip as she covered the scars with ink.

After the scars werevcovered, he visibly relaxed and dropped the wrinkled shirt from his dry mouth. Risa continued her work and after a long day, she finally finished.

"Look." Risa told him as she slid a body sized cracked mirror, on wheels, closer. Castiel peeked over his inked shoulder.

Tears flooded his eyes and he began to silently sob. Risa gave him an alarmed look.

"Does it hurt? Or do you not like it or something?"

Castiel shook his head and reached a hand back and gently touched his sore shoulder.

"Its so beautiful...i-it reminds me of my brothers and sisters."

Risa smiled, with a new fondness of the broken ex-angel before her. She could now see why Chuck treated Castiel with such kindness and respect as he did. He had a strange and kind innocence to him.

"Lieutenant Risa, thank you. I love it. I really do." Castiel cried. Risa smiled, again, and rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, yeah. Don't thank me. And don't even mention me doing a favor like this to anyone, angel boy." Risa sternly, but playfully replied.

Castiel had rarely been happy about much lately, but at the time he was completely overjoyed.

*  
"...You know, once you get past that attitude of her's, Lieutenant Risa isn't all that bad."

Dean bowed his head, taking a moment to process the story that he had been told. He felt complete fury that his future self wouldn't agree to a request of Castiel's. Dean definitely knew now that he would give-in to his friend's request for the tattoo.

Dean raised his head and fierce forest green eyes met tired ocean blue ones. He shook his head, clearing the anger, and replaced it with sadness for the exhausted man before him. "Tell that to my abused face." Dean finally joked, attempting to lighten Castiel's mood.

Castiel cracked a rare, genuine smile and nodded. "Most women here aren't too fond of you." He joked back.

Dean looked offended."Me? How can anyone not like this?" Dean gestured to himself as he spoke. A grin appeared on the young freckled face.

Castiel's smile suddenly became one of pain and Dean frowned in confusion.

"...The self of you of this time; he doesn't understand...I...I at least want you to... After I fell, I wanted to continue that connection to Heaven," Castiel paused, cleared his throat, and crossed his arms over his chest. "After thinking about it for awhile, I believed that this was the best solution. Now when I see these babies on my back, well I feel like I can fly again...even if it is just for a moment."

Castiel's eyes shone with emotion. Dean slowly started to shake his head. Dean began to speak, but hesitated. After looking upwards at the ceiling and nodding his blonde head, he began, again.

"Cas, uhhhh...You should know by now that I'm not too good with all that 'emotions' stuff and 'chick-flick' crap, but uhhhh...I just uhhhh, want you to know that you...you don't need wings or a halo or any of that crap to be able to fly. " Dean awkwardly replied.

Dean embarrassedly averted his eyes from Castiel's and a sad smile played onto Castiel's chapped lips. "One day you won't believe that anymore."

Castiel swiftly pulled on the moth eaten long sleeve and slid on the thick jacket. Dean opened his mouth, beginning to disagree, but the door painfully bashed open before he could do so.

Future Dean strut in with boots making a '_thump, thump_' noise. Risa was hot on his heels with an angry look directed at him. She noticed Castiel and a slight smile appeared, but then she froze, realizing that there was more than one Dean in the room.

As future Dean roughly shoved his way by Castiel, the hippie stumbled back, and irrated forest green eyes menacingly glared at the broken ocean blue ones.

Future Dean slammed '_The Colt_' down onto the creaky table and gave a crazed grin to the hunters occupying the building. He confidently spread his arms into the air. "Tonight I **WILL** kill the Devil."

FIN

_I_ _would appreciate it if you readers do __**NOT**__ copy my written work! I take a lot of effort into creating my stories. Thank you._


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